Petticoats: Volume 3
by ecol
Summary: In a world where women reign supreme, Alexandra Hamilton has just met her first friend. However, not everyone's feelings are exactly alike. (Last installment in the Petticoats novels).
1. Alexandra Hamilton

_1775_

The boat rocks beneath my feet, making me feel a little woozy. I have always loved the water, but this trip seemed to take a toll on me like no other has. As I stare out at the water and the coastline that is slowly appearing, I take a deep breath. My red locks are moving around my head like bees do their hives. All of my curls are unkempt and make me anxious about my appearance. New York is well known for their appearances, after all.

As a coastline appears, a younger woman approaches me. I could hear the way her heels click on the floor of the boat. She smiles at me, and out of politeness I smile back. She hands me my papers, which they kept in the captain's quarters. I take them and put them into my satchel.

"We will be docking in New York soon, Miss Hamilton."

I turn back to the coastline. I see tall buildings and rolling green towards the ports. "Yes. You're right."

She doesn't say anything else. She stands next to me and watches the waves lap up against the boat. "The Indies are rough, Hamilton. I know why you left."

"Yes," is all I say back. The girl has caramel colored skin with sunspots all up and down her arms. Her thick brown hair is tied back, out of her face. That is typical of sailors. Our captain adorns a similar hairstyle; in fact, the crew is obsessed with practically, from their blue dresses that contain no underskirts and no corsets, to their bare arms and rarely caped shoulders.

She is pretty.

"Are you alright, Hamilton?"

"I'm fine, Sergeant Johnson. Why don't you go help in the kitchen or something?"

She doesn't say anything for a moment. I shake my head.

"Call me Beatrice, please."

I look her up and down. "Then I suppose you can call me Alexandra."

She moves closer to me, extending her hand to my arm. She holds my right arm with a gentleness. This Beatrice character believes that I will shatter if she grips any harder. "Will I see you again, Alexandra?"

"That depends, Beatrice."

She turns away from me and goes back to the hull, taking the stairs by the bow. I take a seat on a barrel, fantasizing about New York, and what will become of me once I'm there.

An hour passes, and the port is directly upon us. The captain pulls the boat into its proper spot, and I am practically jumping off of the side of the ship. I couldn't wait to finally see America in all of her glory.

I thank the captain, I thank Beatrice, and walk down steps that some of the mates have set up. I completely forgot that I am not a passenger, but a piece of cargo; they take down boxes of tea and spices with me. I sigh.

After I'm off of the steps, New York City is booming before me. Pretty women in springtime gowns walk with their husbands, arm in arm. They are my heroes now.

Some women in lobster back red scour the area, bayonets in hand. I know enough about American politics to understand exactly what is going on here

The revolution is upon us.


	2. Erin Burr

_1778_

My next class is up ahead. The doors of the lecture hall are already open, but before I'm able to reach the door, someone grabs my arm.

"Hey!" I shout, ripping my arm away. I am truly not in the mood for antics; I did not sleep well the night before, and the last lecture did not help my antsy mind.

"Pardon me!" a creature says back, becoming defensive. When I am no longer blinded by frustration and anger, someone is standing before me. She has long red hair and a plain, cream cotton dress on. She has a brown satchel at her side, and the wildest eyes I've ever seen.

"What is it? I have to get to class."

"Are you Erin Burr?"

I pause. "That depends. Who's asking?"

The redhead laughs, throwing her head back. I don't laugh with her. "You're funny, Erin!"

"Burr. Please. Only my parents were allowed called me Erin," I roll my eyes, trying to forgive the redhead for her insensitivity.

"Well, surely they still call you Erin, right? Why are you using past tense?"

I look her up and down, not saying anything. I uncomfortably shift my back onto my other shoulder. My heart is pounding in my ears, now.

"Oh. You're an orphan…"

"Yes. I'm an orphan. Now, will you excuse me…?" I realize that this person didn't even tell me their name.

"Alexandra Hamilton." She takes pride in her name; the name no one in the entirety of the thirteen colonies has heard before.

"Alexandra. Yes. Okay." I turn back to the door.

"I'm an orphan too, Burr. My mother left and my father… well, he passed from illness. I can't remember what it's called."

"Alexandra, I'm sorry, but I really must be going. It was wonderful meeting you."

She smiles brightly. "Likewise!" She still doesn't get it. I can't tell if it's naivete, or if something is clinically wrong with this girl.

"Goodbye, Alexandra."

"Goodbye, Erin Burr."


End file.
